


Jumping the Merc

by Thursday26



Series: Friendship Set to Music [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Nudity, Refactory Periods affected by Healing Factors, Spideypool - Freeform, Superfamily (Marvel) mentioned, peter is 19, unrealistic refractory period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 00:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thursday26/pseuds/Thursday26
Summary: Peter goes into a club armed with a fake ID and a half-baked plan on how to deal with his (not) feelings.Or, the long-awaited prequel to Manners.





	Jumping the Merc

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you read that right, this is the night before Wade decides it's a good idea to brag to Steve about banging Peter for most of the night. I have been teasing about this fic for a long time, so I really hope it was worth the wait! This is being compiled into a series with Manners! 
> 
> I am not certain how to inform people that have read Manners that there is this one, but I hope they all find this story and I hope everyone enjoys this! Let me know if I forgot any tags!
> 
> Oh i feel like i should mention this since i have Spider-Man tagged as "all media" but I don't really include the MCU spidey, more of a combination of Andrew Garfield and the Spider-Man in the Civil War comic and the Spider-Man video game. Also, in complete denial over here... any stony is pre-civil war but post-avengers MCU. They are all happy and I won't be told otherwise

Peter is terrified now that he’s here. He’s spent weeks building up to this moment, even going so far to use his dad’s tech to help him make a fake ID so he can get into the club in the first place. Honestly, that’s the only reason he was able to get inside. The bouncer looked him up and down a couple of times, made Peter recite the whole ID, and even scanned it before letting Peter reluctantly over the threshold. Peter isn’t upset about that. He looks like he’s not a day over 17 (and, admittedly, that’s pretty generous), and he looked nervous as hell too. That has to be suspicious. 

That said, Peter shouldn’t be in a club. He’s only 19, but he tracked a certain mercenary here and that’s all he can think about. Yes, it’s Wade Wilson, a.k.a. Deadpool, a.k.a. the Merc with a Mouth, a.k.a. a major pain in Spider-Man’s ass. He’s been bothering Peter in the mask for about two years now. For the first year it was random run-ins and some arguments about whose idea of justice was better. Peter hated him and dreaded ever coming across the merc when he was in the mask. His dad’s file on Deadpool didn’t help any. But the last year has been different. Wade’s still the same old pain in the ass, but Peter has stopped being so hard on him (minus the killing thing) and he’s been pleasantly surprised. Wade has tried really hard to be better, and Peter would have to be a monster to not acknowledge it. And slowly, Peter has come to realize that underneath the brashness, bad jokes, and Mexican food, Wade Winston Wilson is actually a really sweet, average guy. Or as average one can be when they put on a skin tight suit and fight crime. 

So the last year has consisted of random team-ups and taco nights and sometimes Peter falling asleep leaning against Deadpool after a long night of crimefighting. Wade has been very sweet with Peter, well, his own brand of sweetness. Or… he’s been that way with Spider-Man. Wade doesn’t know Peter is Spider-Man, and Peter isn’t sure if sharing that would be a good idea. He’s keeping his identity a secret to protect his friends and family, although his family really doesn’t need protection (really, Captain America and Iron Man are more than capable of taking care of themselves), but there are a couple of non-superpowered friends he wants to keep out of the life. 

There’s so much wrong with being attracted to Wade, but it also feels like the easiest thing in the world. Wade, being Wade, grew on Peter like a fungus and gained another title to go with the many he already has: Star of Peter’s Wet Dreams. Now wasn’t that a shock and a half? 

That new title really isn’t more than six months old and Peter has been up and down, backwards and forwards about what he should do about it. For starters, his dads hate Deadpool. Well, Tony more than Steve. Neither of them would approve of Peter hanging around the merc. And they don’t know about Peter hanging around Wade because neither of them knows Peter is Spider-Man. He really has no idea how he managed that with how nosey both his dads are, and every other Avenger that he calls Aunt and Uncle. But that’s not important right now. He can deal with his parents and everyone else later. Tonight is about getting what he wants. And he’s nervous as hell about it. 

Which brings him to the second thing: he’s not Spider-Man right now, he’s Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers, unmasked and nerdy as hell. He’s tried to dress to impress, but he feels distinctly out of place amongst the other patrons of the club. He’s wearing too many layers compared to the other guys he sees. It’s only a cardigan, but he may as well be wearing a parka next to the guys in shirts that look painted on. That goes double for jeans. Peter wore his comfortable jeans, not a skinny cut, but a straight leg. He thought it looked good, but he feels so awkward compared to everyone else. And his shirt is nowhere near tight enough and has a design on it, unlike everyone else, who has a solid color or a pattern at most. To top it off, Peter wore his old glasses, hoping that would make him look older than seventeen, but he thinks it may have had the exact opposite effect. 

Peter slinks into a corner, watching people warily. He didn’t think this through. All he’s been able to think about was finding Wade and approaching him, but he never thought about  _ how  _ to actually do that. As Spider-Man, this would have been easy. Wade’s talked enough about Peter’s ass to know that Wade would more likely than not jump at the chance to…well...jump him, so to speak. But he made the decision to do this out of costume because he didn’t want to fuck up whatever friendship he has with Wade on the off chance that he isn’t interested. Peter doesn’t know why, but it made sense to him when coming up with this plan. Sure it’ll hurt if Wade rejects Peter, but Spider-Man can continue to be Wade’s friend. And that’s all that matters. Or, that’s what Peter tells himself anyway. 

Peter runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head. He can’t believe he thought this would be a good idea. There are so many factors he never even considered, like actually needing to  _ talk  _ to Wade to communicate interest. He can’t just walk up to him like “hey, wanna fuck?”...or he could, but Peter is mortified to even think that. He needs to try and  _ pick Wade up _ . And that’s just a wild thought. Can he even  _ do  _ that? The last time he tried to pick someone up, he ended up in a heated debate over the Oxford comma. That was not a good kind of heated debate. Peter hasn’t gone back to that place since. 

The music changes suddenly, knocking Peter’s breath out of his lungs. It’s still loud club music, but there’s a bass drop that feels like his heart is about to stop. He can feel it in every inch of his body, through his hair, and even through his teeth. It’s odd, but strangely addictive. He looks out over the dance floor, curious. And there he is. 

It’s easy to pick Wade out of the crowd. He’s so much taller than everyone, so broad, and covered head to toe in leather and spandex. His trusty katanas are strapped to his back (how he managed to enter the club with weapons is beyond Peter) and he’s waving his hands in the air in the middle of the dance floor. People seem to be giving him a bit of a berth, not much, but enough to see that he isn’t dancing with anyone. Not that he seems to care, swaying and jumping and pumping his fist like he’s the only person in the room. Peter smiles fondly. Yeah, that’s his friend alright. Peter’s always been in the mask when he’s seen Wade. He wonders just how different he is to a civilian…

He’s shocked out of his musings by a large hand on his backside. Peter jumps, smacking the hand away. He hits bare skin and sees a dude in a skin-tight black v-neck with a haircut that has his hair swooping over to one side. He smiles at Peter, straight white teeth flashing between plump lips. Peter takes a moment to recognize that this man is attractive, but he does not want to be near him. Grabby guys are not good guys, if MJ is to be trusted. And she’s always,  _ always  _ right. 

The guy leans in close, breath hot against Peter’s ear. “Hey gorgeous. Looking for some fun tonight?” he asks. 

Peter is so tempted to tell him  _ not with you _ , but he knows better than to engage. He shakes his head and tries to shimmy away. 

The guy doesn’t seem to take the hint, though, and grabs Peter’s arm. “Come on. Don’t be like that. Let me buy you a drink and we can have a talk.” 

Peter’s spidey sense is starting to tickle him. He shakes his head more firmly and breaks the guy’s hold easily. Peter did not come here to get drunk, he came here to talk to Deadpool and he’s not comfortable drinking anything yet. He is underage after all. Not wanting to make a scene, at least not one with him dead in the center of it, he turns and makes a bee-line for Deadpool. Peter knows that Wade won’t stand for grabby guys and won’t hesitate to use his bulk to intimidate the guy away. “Hey, don’t walk away from me–” Peter hears the guy say before he’s drowned out by the music. Peter can feel it vibrating his fillings. 

He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of Wade, who has stopped dancing and is staring at him with a slight tilt to his head. Peter swallows, hesitating for a moment, and the guy grabs his arm again, tight, fully intending to pull Peter away. Peter yanks his arm out of the guy’s hold, leaning into Deadpool’s chest, hoping to convey that some guy is being a creep and needs some help. 

One of Wade’s big arms wraps around Peter, holding him close. Peter knows that his attention has snapped to the man in the v-neck. Peter looks over his shoulder, watching the guy warily and basking in the fact that he’s so close to Wade right now. V-Neck is holding up his hands and backing away, eyes wide. It doesn’t take long for him to disappear into the crowd. There are a couple of people around them watching curiously, but otherwise they’re too busy getting lost in the beat. 

Peter looks up to Wade and mouths the words “thank you.” The music is way too loud for him to even attempt to yell over. Wade’s hand comes up and he ruffles Peter’s hair. It’s a little too… adult soothing little kid for Peter’s comfort. He catches Wade’s hand before he stops touching Peter and presses the gloved hand into his cheek. 

Wade tenses as Peter nuzzles into his hand, hoping to convey exactly how he’s feeling. And he’s not talking, which is always a plus whenever he’s trying to seduce someone. Or… he hopes so. He’s never really tried, but it can’t be worse than him trying to talk. His whole theory is that he needs just one night to get Wade out of his system. One night and Peter will be fine.

Wade’s fingers twitch against his face, but he doesn’t try to escape. Peter keeps Wade’s palm on his cheek with one hand, raising the other one over Wade’s shoulder and pulling him close. It’s a little awkward, with Wade being so much taller than Peter and Peter having to rise up onto his toes. Peter blushes; not talking doesn’t seem to be helping at all. He’s still extremely awkward and wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. 

He’s about to pull away when Wade’s free hand moves to Peter’s hip, keeping him close. Peter relaxes, only now noticing that he was starting to get tense. Wade’s other hand slides out from underneath Peter’s, moving down his body until it’s on Peter’s other hip. Peter shivers, throwing his other arm around Wade’s shoulder. Wade's hands are so big around him. And so strong. Peter shifts forward, pressing his front into Wade’s, and feels his breath stutter. Wade is so  _ solid _ . Peter already knew that, but feeling it, and in this context, is so much better than when he notices how solid Wade is when they’re patrolling. 

Wade uses his grip to move Peter to the beat, for which he is grateful. For all the grace and agility that spider bite gave Peter, it did not give him a sense of rhythm at all. He still dances like a marionette in an earthquake. But swaying along with Wade… is nothing like that. He feels safe and warm and, yes, this’ll totally get Wade out of his system. No more nights of patrol getting distracted by those arms, or those legs, or those suggestions he keeps on making that Peter is sure are jokes. 

Someone is singing, but Peter can’t make out the words, moving with Wade. Wade is almost too tall. Peter is tempted to jump up and wrap his legs around Wade’s waist, but that probably isn’t a good idea. Wade’s strong, Peter knows that he can handle Peter’s weight, but he doesn’t want to do that in public. What would people think? 

Just as Peter’s thinking that, Wade leans forward, slotting his leg between Peter’s, and Peter’s mouth falls open. He might have moaned, but it’s impossible to tell over the sound of the music. Only Peter’s toes are on the floor now, Wade’s grip holding him up. Really, Wade is so strong. Peter  _ knows  _ he moans this time, feeling it from deep inside his chest. He isn’t looking into Wade’s face; his eyes are closed, his head tilted down, and he can feel how hot his cheeks are getting. He never expected it to feel like this. 

He grinds down on Wade’s leg a little bit, as much as he can with Wade’s grip holding him up. The movement makes Wade’s grip tighten and Peter arches into him, head falling back. He opens his eyes halfway, finding the eyes of Deadpool’s mask. Wade freezes. Peter doesn’t understand why. He frowns and whines, even though he’s certain that Wade can’t hear it. 

Wade lifts Peter and he doesn’t have a choice but to wrap his legs around Wade’s hips lest he be dragged awkwardly around, because he’s pretty sure that Wade isn’t about to let him go. And that's fine, but Peter’s cheeks turn a bright red and he hides his face in Wade’s neck, praying to the gods (Thor? Loki? One of their distant cousins???) that no one is looking at him. It’s unlikely, given Peter’s luck, but he can pretend. 

Then they’re moving through the crowd. There’s no way that people aren’t looking, Peter refuses to look up to confirm. He might die of embarrassment. The music fades a little bit, but it’s still pretty loud, when Peter feels a wall pressed into his back, Wade’s body pressing into his front. Peter moans and he can hear it this time. Wade groans. “Baby Boy, do you know who I am?”

Peter nods, his hands trailing up Wade’s arms to his shoulders, holding on. “Yeah, yeah, I do,” he nods. Wade pulls back and Peter whines at the distance between them. He bites his lip and looks up at Wade. 

Wade is staring at him. Peter can’t see his eyes, but he’s sure that Wade is looking at him with big eyes. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” 

Peter frowns, confused. “Yeah.” 

Wade stares at him for another couple of seconds, then starts to take a step back. Peter whines and tightens his grip. Wade stops in his tracks. “Where are you going?” asks Peter.

“Did that guy give you something?” Wade asks, sounding like he’s on his way to getting trigger-happy. 

Peter tilts his head. “What? No. Why?” 

“Because you’re hot as fuck and you’re attached to me.” 

Peter blushes and ducks his head, trying not to smile. Sure, he’s embarrassed, but he’s also pleased at the compliment. “Thank you.” 

“Oh I definitely have to hunt that guy down, no way you’re not on something.”

‘What?” Peter holds onto Wade, remembering just in time not to use his strength to keep Wade in place. He’s Peter right now, not Spider-Man. “Wait, Wa–Deadpool. Wait a second.” And that works? Wade stops in place, but he’s not touching Peter anymore. Well, not with his hands. He’s still standing close enough that his body his touching Peter’s. Peter really wasn’t expecting Wade to stop to listen to him, although he’s not sure why… Well, Deadpool doesn’t always listen to Spider-Man. Oh no, he’s been quiet for too long. 

Wade’s looking at him. “Can I kiss you?” Peter asks, face immediately going red. What the fuck? 

Wade’s hands come up to Peter’s face and he tilts Peter’s head up. That  _ worked? _ Peter’s eyes slide closed and he waits. 

“Open your eyes, Baby Boy.”

“Why?” Peter asks, stubbornly keeping his eyes closed. 

A gloved thumb rubs over his cheek and Peter melts into the touch. The only thing that could make it better would be if Wade took off his gloves.Wade lets out a shaky breath. “I’ll kiss you, Baby Boy–” Peter’s heart flutters “–but–” and it drops just as quickly “–you have to see first.” 

Peter frowns, eyes still closed. “See what?” There’s a lot of Wade that Peter would like to see, but Wade can’t be showing him  _ that  _ in public. 

“What you’ll be kissing,” says Wade. 

Peter’s eyes fly open. Wade’s going to take off his mask? In public? For some stranger that maybe wants to kiss him, but he won’t even pull the damn thing over the bridge of his nose for his self-proclaimed (who’s Peter kidding? It’s totally reciprocal) best friend Spider-Man? 

Wade has a finger under the bottom of his mask, but he hasn’t pulled it up yet. “You’re going to take it off in public?” Peter whispers. Sure, Wade isn’t exactly secretive about his secret identity (if you can even call it that), but unmasking like this seems too strange. 

Wade seems to deflate. “You’re right. That’s probably a bad idea…” 

He starts to take a step back, but Peter gets his arms around Wade’s shoulders. “No!” says Peter. There’s no way that he’s going to get this close and lose his chance. Well, it’s very possible. Peter’s luck has never been that good. But he needs to do this. “I just mean… why would you take it off in public? Isn’t unmasking like… really personal?” Peter knows for a fact that it is, but he’s playing the dumb civilian. 

“Unmasking?’ Wade asks. “That makes me sound like a hero–” Peter has to bite his tongue not to argue with Wade right now. It’s an age-old argument between them. “–but I only take off the whole thing for special occasions.”

“Like naked Thursdays?” Peter has no idea where that came from and he immediately blushes. Wade is staring at him, probably reassessing his life. 

Then Wade laughs, delighted. “Baby Boy, I am  _ ecstatic  _ to hear that you know the sanctity of Naked Thursdays. Especially,” Wade’s voice drops a register and he steps in close, pressing Peter into the wall, “with an ass like this.” He reaches down and squeezes said ass. Peter’s breath hitches and he arches into Wade’s chest, mouth falling open. “But I was just gonna show you the lips, so you know what you’re getting into.” 

“What if I wanted to see more than just your lips?” Peter asks breathlessly. Okay, so it seems that when Wade is touching his ass he’s lost his filter. That can’t...

“Like my nose?”

Peter runs his hands down Wade’s chest suggestively, shaking his head and biting his lip. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of whether that suit fits you really well, or if that’s just a bunch of padding.” 

Wade chuckles. “I gotta admit, Baby Boy, that was pretty smooth.” 

“It was,” Peter agrees, not exactly sure where it came from, but he does know that he wants every single inch of Wade pressed into him. Multiple times if he can help it. He’s young enough to pull off a couple of times in one night, right?

“I’ll start small… my skin is kind of gross and a lot of people change their minds when they see it–” Peter hates anyone that did that to Wade “–so no hard feelings if you change your mind, okay?” 

“Okay,” Peter nods. “But know, the second I can, I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

Wade huffs a laugh. “Baby Boy, you can do whatever you want.” 

Wade’s hands start to move. “Wait,” Peter says. Wade freezes. “Let me do it.”

“Why?” 

Peter wants to feel embarrassed, but he isn’t for some reason. So it’s really easy for him to say, “Because I like your hands where they are right now,” with a straight face.

Wade stares at him again, then readjusts his grip on Peter’s behind. “Wow, you’re just full of surprises,” Wade chuckles. “Okay, go for it. Just to the nose.” 

Peter smiles, a jolt of excitement going through him. He’s really going to do this. Carefully, he finds the seam of Wade’s mask and starts pulling up the leather. The scarred skin of Wade’s neck is exposed first and Peter can’t wait. He leans up and starts pressing kisses into the exposed skin. Wade moans, leaning harder into Peter. Peter groans at the contact, even if there are too many layers between them right now.

Peter continues to kiss over Wade’s neck, moving to his jawline and biting occasionally. Wade seems to love it, if the sounds he’s making mean anything. Then Wade makes a move, pressing now exposed lips to Peter’s. 

Peter moans, going up on tiptoe to press harder into Wade. Wade’s lips are sort of chapped and he tastes like a chimichanga that’s a little off, but Peter wouldn’t change any of it for the world. He’s kissing Wade! He did it! Wade presses into Peter a little harder, pushing him up the wall to the point where his feet come off the ground, leaving Peter with no choice but to hook his legs over Wade’s hips. 

Too soon, but probably pushing the limits of Peter’s ability to not breathe, Wade pulls away. Peter is panting, but whines at the distance. Wade is also panting, but he doesn’t seem to be having as much trouble as Peter. “Wow, you’re really not bothered by them,” Wade says. 

“I’m not,” Peter confirms. He kisses Wade’s cheek to emphasise his point. “Now, this may be a little forward, but how about you take me to a place where we can celebrate Naked Thursday a little early?” 

Wade sways a bit, but they stay upright. Peter smirks. “Did your knees just go weak?” 

“Of course they did,” Wade says back, almost laughing. “I have my Christmas, Easter, and Halloween wet dream in my arms. A man is going to swoon, Baby Boy. No one is immune.” 

Peter laughs. “So that’s a ‘yes, let’s go to my place?’”

Wade nods. “Yes, absolutely. I can’t carry you there, though. Not like this. I can throw you over my shoulder if that tickles your fancy.” 

“I think I can walk, the question is whether or not you can keep your hands to yourself.” 

“Oh, I definitely can’t, but that’s why jeans have back pockets, right?” 

“Right,” Peter laughs. “Now let’s go. The night may be young, but there definitely aren’t enough hours in one.”

* * *

The trip to Wade’s place is uneventful, save for some friendly groping that got a little heavy from the club to Wade’s place, resulting in some impromptu detours to the closest vertical surface. Peter loves that Wade can support his weight without breaking a sweat. Peter knows he isn’t  _ that  _ heavy, but with his own superstrength, it’s easy to forget that some people are pretty strong, and Wade isn’t even fazed supporting Peter’s weight. It’s unbelievably hot.

Thankfully, Wade’s place isn’t too far from the club. Or well, a place that he owns, because according to Peter’s reconnaissance, this is not his place of residence. Maybe he changed it. Does it matter? No, all that matters is that Peter is in a private place with Wade right now. A place where no one is watching them. Just him and Wade. And too many layers of clothes between them. Peter has no idea how to get him to lose the layers without actually saying it out loud and he’s not too sure that he’s confident enough to do that. But he’s more than okay with being pushed into the back of the front door, legs around Wade’s waist, arms over his shoulders, and kissing like his life depends on it. 

Peter’s never felt anything like this before, but there’s also the fact that this is so out of the realm of what he would normally do. What would his dads say? No. He’s not going to think about his dads. Not now. 

Peter moves his hands to the bottom of Wade’s mask, fingers going underneath it. Wade suddenly stops kissing him, jerking back in shock. Peter frowns in confusion. “Why’d you stop?” he asks. 

“Just… the mask,” Wade says uncomfortably. 

Peter withdraws his hands, but only to Wade’s neck, thumbs caressing over scarred skin. Wade gulps. “I thought you took it off for special occasions.” Wade gulps again. “I won’t make you take off anything,” Peter continues, running his thumb over Wade’s lip, “but Wade–I can call you Wade, right?” 

“H-How do you know my name?” He doesn’t sound scared. He sounds surprised.

Peter chuckles. “You’re not exactly anonymous, Mr. Deadpool. I’ve seen business cards with your name on them.” 

“Now what kind of characters are you hanging out with if you come across my business card, Baby Boy?” Wade purrs. 

Peter shivers. “Why is it important?”

“Because if you’re more dangerous than your pretty face and cute glasses say you are, I may believe that I’m dead right now. Finally something worked.”

Peter pulls Wade in for a harsh kiss, tasting blood for a moment, not sure if he cut his own lip or Wade’s with his teeth. Wade makes a noise of surprise, but kisses him back. Peter falls into it, losing himself in the kiss, forgetting why he kissed Wade in the first place. He had a reason. What was it again? Oh, right. Peter pulls back, panting, but not very far, brushing his nose against Wade’s. “No talking about death like it’s a good thing,” Peter whispers. “I much prefer you alive.” 

Wade whines. “Okay… okay…” 

“Now… we were talking about your mask, right?” 

“Yeah.”

Peter kisses the corners of Wade’s mouth, his cheeks, the line of his jaw, all gentle and soft. “If you don’t want to do it, I won’t make you take anything off, but Wade,” Peter kisses Wade on the mouth again, deep. Wade falls into the kiss again and chases Peter’s lips when he pulls back and Peter whispers,  _ “Wade _ , I want to feel you against me. Every inch on me, Wade.” Wade exhales, breath puffing over Peter’s face. “I’ll take off the same amount, Wade. I promise.” 

Wade groans. “Now that’s fighting dirty, Baby Boy.”

Peter arches his body into Wade’s, grinding his front into Wade and moaning. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to feel every inch as well, Wade.” Peter kisses Wade fleetingly again. “Can’t you picture it, Wade? Don’t you want to feel it, too?” 

“Fuck… you gotta be a demon, leading me straight into temptation.”

Peter smiles. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” 

“It is  _ not.” _

Peter laughs. This time, Wade leans in to kiss him, but his nose bumps into Peter’s glasses, pushing them into Peter’s face. Peter winces, jerking back, a hand going up. He grabs his glasses, uncaring that he’s grabbing the lenses, and drops them on the floor before pulling Wade into another kiss, shifting his weight so Wade has to take a step to the side to compensate for it. Peter leans more fully into Wade, loving that the man is carrying him. Then there’s a loud crunching sound and everything pauses. 

Peter has grown up with glasses, so he knows the tell-tale sound of them being stepped on. He wants to feel guilty, not that they would be hard to replace (he’s sure he has a spare set in his bedroom somewhere) but because he cannot count the amount of glasses he’s gone through. You’d think Tony would invent something with how often he’s replacing his son’s glasses, but that’s neither here nor there. 

“Sorry, Baby Boy,” Wade says. “I can pay for that.” 

Peter laughs, throwing his head back. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures Wade. “But now you’ll have to carry me all the way to your bed.” 

“What? Why?”

Peter pouts, making sure to look Wade in what he’s pretty sure are his eyes. “There’s broken glass all over the floor and your boots are better suited to handle that.”

Wade chuckles. “As you wish then, my dear. Is that your subtle hint that you want to move this to a more horizontal surface?” 

Some of the joviality leaves Peter and he swallows once. “A bed, preferably…”

“You okay, Baby Boy?”

Peter thinks about lying and saying it’s nothing, but he’s already lying to Wade about other, arguably more important, things. He takes a moment to collect himself and admits, “I… uh… I’d like for my first time to be in a bed, honestly.”

Wade freezes and Peter’s heart sinks. Maybe he should have lied. Wade might stop their interaction now that he knows Peter’s a virgin. “How old are you really?” 

“Nineteen.” 

“Really?”

Peter nods quickly. “Yeah. Nineteen, I promise.”

“Then what were you doing in that club, Baby Boy? Must have a great fake ID.” 

Peter casts his gaze downward. “Looking for you…”

“Baby Boy, if you’re trying to kill me, you don’t have to get into my pants to know that it won’t work.”

Peter gives Wade a flat look, but he’s not sure how much weight it bears when Wade is still literally carrying him. “Can’t I just wanna be with you?”

Wade’s mouth turns down in a frown. “It’s never happened  _ before, _ and I doubt it would… unless–” he gasps dramatically “–I have groupies!” Peter wants to roll his eyes, but instead he hides his face in the side of Wade’s neck. Wade laughs and they’re moving. “I can’t believe I have groupies. Or, one groupie.”

Then Peter is falling. It’s only through sheer will that Peter doesn’t cling to Wade with his powers, but he does make a squawking noise as he falls. But he lands on a bed, bouncing a bit. Wade is standing at the end of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest and one hip cocked. “So you’re telling me that you’ve never done anything like this before?” 

Peter blushes and shakes his head. Now that he’s not touching Wade anymore, he feels self-conscious. 

“Never? Not even a girl?”

Peter’s blush deepens. “Well… not.. I… um… I’ve never… done  _ it, _ but, like… I’ve done  _ stuff.” _ Peter feels like he might burst into flame. Why is it do hard to talk to Wade now? Can he just ask Wade to touch his butt again? Can he even get up the courage to request that?

“Stuff?” Wade repeats and Peter knows that tone of voice well. Wade is purposely being a bastard. If he was in his mask, he would glare, but he’s bare-faced (god, his glasses are ruined) and Wade is still uncomfortably clothed. 

“Yes, stuff,” Peter repeats. “Stuff.” He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t mean to question your mind, Baby Boy–”

“–But you are,” Peter grumbles.

“–but I  _ have to _ ,” Wade continues. “Because I know that first times are… important. And I don’t want you regretting this. You’ve never even fooled around with a guy before, I know you got some sort of hero-worship delusion–” Peter snorts “–but I gotta make extra super sure. My inner voices are not happy with me in the least, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you did something without being absolutely sure.” Wade pauses. “And you know I am going to live for a long time.” 

It’s sweet, but Peter feels like he might have run out of courage. Why does Wade have to be such a good guy? Why can’t he just jump in like he normally does with absolutely everything else? Although Peter knows he wouldn’t like Wade if he was any other way. That said, he has to respond to Wade, especially if he wants to get what he went through all this trouble for. The only problem is, Peter is nervous. And when Peter is nervous, he tends to ramble a bit, and he can feel it coming out. “It seems like your… hesitations stem from my inexperience with other men, which is kind of an archaic view, you know. Like how does a straight person know they’re straight before they ever have sex with another person, right? So like, it’s really stupid to hold that sort of standard for sexual orientation, or sexual… interest.

“That being said, there is the debate about sexuality and the nature of it, whether or not sexuality is inherent, or genetic, or only environmentally influenced. There is an inherent fallacy right off the bat here, and that is creating the dichotomy of either nature or nurture. As has already been studied, human sexuality is a combination of both and trying to say it is  _ only  _ one or the other is incorrect and risks simplifying something as complex as sexuality, which is uniquely–sexual orientation I mean– a human phenomenon. While animals engage in homosexual acts, it is much like the philosophy of morality and that the concept of morality is what makes immorality. So, by that logic, sexual orientation is a cognitive function, which means that the discourse about sexuality exists because we can think about our sexualities and make ourselves all confused and God, Wade, why are you letting me still talk?” Peter asks in one breath. 

Wade has a dumb smile on his face. “You’re cute.”

Peter frowns. “You know what, I’m just going to start taking off my clothes. If you want to join me, you’re more than welcome to.” 

“Now, Baby Boy, you are  _ adorable _ when you rant about this stuff–”

“It’s not even my area of study,” Peter grouses. 

“–you never actually answered my question.”

“Question?” 

“Are you sure that you want to do this?” Wade asks. “Because  _ this _ –” he motions to his own exposed skin “–is everywhere, Baby Boy. I can take you to the moon, but it’s not the prettiest spacecraft, if you know what I mean.”

Peter smiles softly, eyes dropping down. “I think it’s pretty.” 

“Baby Boy, you might actually be the one who kills me.”

“So are we going to do this?” Peter asks hopefully. “Because, as much as I appreciate the check-ins and the making sures, I.. um… there aren’t enough hours in the night, usually.” 

Suddenly Wade is on him, leaning over him on all fours, mouth attached to Peter’s, still dressed, but now Peter’s nerves have left him. He grabs onto Wade’s head and holds him tight, sucking on Wade’s tongue and desperate. Wade moans into his mouth, running his gloved hands over Peter’s sides, at first over his t-shirt, but then dipping under and ticking his skin. It’s smooth but sticky, like leather tends to be, and Peter wants skin to skin. He pulls Wade’s head back, eyes still closed, “Can we please get undressed? Please, please, please?” Then he kisses Wade before he can respond. Because, at this point, the question feels mostly rhetorical. 

This time, Wade pulls back, Peter whining at the distance. “I can’t get either of us undressed if you keep on doing that.” Peter whines again because that’s stupid. Why do clothes have to be so complicated? Wade chuckles at him. “I can keep it all on–”

“No!” Peter cuts him off. “No, take it off. Quick. Quickly, Wade. Quick.” Wade sits back, but Peter suddenly has a desire for something. “Wait,” he says, eyes snapping open. Wade freezes, staring at him. Peter strokes Wade’s face and then moves his thumbs under the edges of the mask. “Can I take this off?” 

Wade holds onto Peter’s wrists, tightening and loosening his grip, while Peter watches Wade bite his lip. Peter rubs Wade’s cheeks and whispers, “It’s okay to say ‘no,’ Wade.” He kisses Wade’s cheek. “The whole ‘are you sure’ thing goes both ways. Don’t ever feel pressured with me, okay?”

“I am absolutely sure that I want to do this with you, but I think I need to be the one to undress me.”

Peter nods, smiling. “Okay.” 

“Can I undress you, though?”

Peter’s smile widens. “Yes.” 

Wade’s responding smile is blinding. “Alright! Now let’s remove all these layers,” he says excitedly and moves to do just that. 

Peter isn’t exactly sure what happens next, or where his clothes go exactly, but he’s certain he was clothed and now he’s naked, completely. Even his socks are gone, and Wade is pressed rough lips on exposed skin. Mostly on his neck and chest. Peter is loving it, moaning and arching into Wade with every kiss. And then he introduces some teeth and Peter is tingling all over. “Wade, please,” Peter gasps out. He’s loving the feeling of Wade’s skin on his body so far, and that’s just a little bit of exposed skin. 

“I will, I will,” Wade promises. “Just got a little distracted by this beautiful person in my bed.” 

“I’ll only accept your compliments if you lose your clothes,too,” Peter says. He’s not sure where it came from, but he means it.

“You drive a hard bargain, Baby Boy,” Wade jokes. Then he clears his throat. “Close your eyes?” Peter gives him a confused look. “Not forever, but I need to show you all at once.” 

Peter huffs. “Fine, but I do so under protest. I would have loved to see you peel out of your suit.” He makes a point of closing his eyes while Wade laughs.

“Noted. I’ll be quick, as requested.” 

Peter huffs out a laugh and thinks to himself,  _ Finally, he’s listening to me. Now if I could get him to listen to me as Spider-Man. _

“Okay,” says Wade, his voice sounding a little less deep. “I’m naked.” It doesn’t feel like Wade is on the bed with him anymore. Slowly, Peter opens his eyes, peeking one open at a time. Wade is standing at the end of the bed, looking down at the mask in his hands, his top gone, but the bottom half of his uniform still on. Peter doesn’t blame him: if he expects to be kicked out as soon as Peter sees him, he wouldn’t want to be completely naked. 

Peter takes a moment to look at Wade, feeling his breath picking up and his mouth water. There is  _ no _ padding in his uniform. “You’re not naked, Wade,” Peter says reproachfully. Wade’s head snaps up, bright blue eyes wide. Holy shit. “Holy fuck, are you sure  _ you _ wanna do this with  _ me?” _ Peter asks, unable to stop the words from coming out. 

Wade just looks so confused, face incredibly expressive. “What? Why?” 

Peter’s mouth falls open. “You’re  _ hot _ .” 

Now Wade’s mouth falls open. “Excuse you, have you seen a mirror ever in your life?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m confused–” 

Wade jumps on him, cutting off any more words by putting his mouth on Peter’s. Peter’s responds quickly, grabbing onto Wade’s head, feeling scars under his hands. And then Wade starts pressing his body into Peter’s and it’s better than he thought it would be. Wade seems to run hot and there’s a texture to his skin that has Peter squirming. There’s also the fact that Wade’s bare hands are on his skin now. Were his hands always so big? Has  _ Wade _ always been so big? Somehow, out of uniform, he feeling bigger, looming over Peter. 

Peter opens up his legs, Wade slotting easily between them, pressing down into Peter’s body. Peter moans, legs hitching up, the insides of his knees scraping over scarred skin. He breaks away from Wade, head falling back. Wade moves in again to Peter’s neck, kissing and biting at the skin. “Oh, Wade,” Peter gasps, arching into Wade.

“Baby Boy,” Wade pants, running his hand over hips and grabbing handfuls of Peter’s ass.

Peter groans. “Yes, Wade, please, please!” Sure, he’s never done this before, but he is more than ready to jump in. 

“Shit, I gotta,” Wade says and he’s gone. Peter blinks at the open air above him. He sits up on his elbows and spots Wade cursing and rummaging through stuff on the floor. 

“What are you doing?”

“This is why I don’t undress when doing the do,” Wade mutters, almost to himself. “All of the stuff I need is in the pouches and I need to find the  _ right _ pouch because–yahtzee!” He stands up straight, a smile on his face that reaches his eyes. Peter’s heart clenches at the sight. Wade’s back on the bed,this time kneeling between Peter’s thighs, proudly showing off his find: a brand new bottle of lube and a ream of condoms. “Now we can get into the  _ really _ fun stuff.” Then he frowns. “I hope it’s enough.” 

Peter almost laughs, but secretly hopes with him. Wade, with his healing factor, has to have an excellent refractory period, because Peter, with  _ his _ healing factor, has a pretty decent refractory period. “Don’t tell me you came less than prepared,” Peter teases.

Wade scoffs. “Sorry I didn’t pack for an incubus.”

Peter snorts. “I’m not a sex demon.” 

“That has yet to be determined, Baby Boy,” Wade counters, using his teeth to rip the plastic seal off the lube and popping it open. “Now, this part is gonna take a while because this is your first time, so I won’t be rushed, no matter what kind of eyes you use on me.” 

“What do you mean?” Peter asks innocently, purposely making his eyes wider. “I only have one kind of eyes.”

Wade squints at Peter like he doesn’t wholly believe him. Peter laughs. Although that laugh cuts off when he feels Wade’s finger circling his hole. Peter’s eyes close and he pushes back against it. While he’s never done anything with another guy, Peter isn’t exactly inexperienced when it comes to playing with his back door. Tony has five 3D printers and Peter was able to print a small toy for himself at seventeen, which he has become very fond of. As far as he knows, his dad doesn’t know about it, which he prefers, honestly. But he really shouldn’t be thinking about his  _ dad _ at a time like this. 

Thankfully, thoughts of Tony are pushed out of his mind when thick, rough fingers push past his rim. Peter moans, head falling back. Sure, fingering himself and subsequently using his toy has always felt good, but it’s nothing compared to the textured thickness of Wade’s fingers. Oh, God. Is his penis textured? Peter cries out at the thought. 

“Oh, this is a lot softer than I expected it to be,” Wade says casually. “Is there an explanation why, or are you just born to be fucked?” He punctuates his question with a hard thrust in, and Peter moans at the feeling. 

“I have a toy,” Peter admits, not sure if the blush is from embarrassment or arousal. “Not big, but I like playing with it.”

Wade groans, adding another finger, and Peter keens at the stretch. “Are you sure you’re not a sex demon? Or a hallucination?” 

“Huh?” Peter asks. He doesn’t totally understand what Wade is saying, but does it matter? All that matters is the way he feels and how Wade is still touching him so intimately. “More, God, Wade.” 

“How are you real?” Wade asks reverently, then adds another finger. This one hurts a little bit, probably from Peter pushing too fast, but that’s okay. Wade won’t hurt him. And it’s not like it hurts that much. “Oh, there’s some resistance. Gonna have to take my time.” Peter whines in protest. Wade chuckles. “Sorry, Baby Boy, some may call me a braggart, but in this case I speak a humble truth: my anaconda is a little bigger than your average snake. Gotta make sure you’re ready.” 

Peter wants to scoff or roll his eyes, and his eyes do roll, but not in annoyance like he would prefer. How in the hell does it feel so good? “Wade…” Peter whines, arching his hips, gripping the pillow next to his head. 

Wade groans. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His pace speeds up and heat shoots through Peter.

“Wade!” Peter cries out, arching his back and coming all over himself. Wade curses under his breath as Peter comes, still pumping his fingers through his orgasm. 

Peter’s making some sort of noise, maybe noises, pushing back and forth on Wade’s fingers, eyes rolled back in his head. He can’t feel much else and he’s not sure if what he’s done with himself, or others, has been real sex, if it can feel like this. “Oh, God, Wade,” Peter moans, finally starting to come down and feeling a little sensitive.

Wade’s fingering slows down and eventually he pulls out, drawing another moan from Peter. “That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” Wade tells him, sounding breathless. Peter hums, smiling. “Okay, maybe it’s that,” Wade corrects himself. 

Peter laughs, taking deep breaths. “It felt as good as it looked,” he slurs out. He’s not sure if what he’s saying makes sense, but Wade laughs again, so he probably did good. 

“Well, thank you, Baby Boy, that’s quite the compliment.” He sits back. Peter doesn’t see it, but he feels Wade’s weight shift backwards so he’s sitting on his knees. Peter forces his eyes open and Wade is wiping his fingers on his pants and doesn’t look like he is planning on doing anything else. Even though there’s an impressive bulge in the front of his pants. Peter’s mouth goes dry. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” Wade says calmly. 

Peter frowns. “We’re done?” 

Wade freezes and blinks at Peter. “Uhhh… most people are done after they get their big bang.”

Peter’s frown deepens and he sits up, his legs outside Wade’s hips. Wade sucks in a breath when Peter leans in close to him, but he’s too short to actually kiss Wade. When did he get so big? “Are we done?” Peter asks, trailing fingertips over Wade’s exposed stomach, real close to his low-slung pants. Peter smirks when he sees Wade’s stomach muscles tense. “Because…” he continues, trailing fingers over the front of Wade’s pants. Wade makes a choked-off noise and his hips jerk forward. “...it looks like you didn’t get your big bang, yet. So you can’t be done.” 

“Y-You don’t have to,” Wade stammers out. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

Peter pouts. “But I  _ want _ to.” He pulls at the front of Wade’s pants, the back of his fingertips brushing over the skin just above his erection. “I’m still young… I just need a minute to catch my breath, then I want to meet your… what did you call it? Your anaconda.” 

“Baby Boy, you are going to kill me,” Wade groans.

Peter smiles. “So we’re not done?”

“No, absolutely not,” Wade says quickly. “If you want, we can just be starting.” 

Peter inhales sharply, biting his lip and nodding. “Yeah, I like the sound of that. Now can we finally take off your pants? I think it’s a little unfair that you’re still dressed.” 

“Yes. God, yes.” 

Wade sits back and awkwardly shoves his pants down his thighs without getting off the bed. They stop just above his knees and he does some weird knee-balancing thing to try to get them off. Peter smiles at Wade, finding his fumbling to be endearing, but they won’t get anywhere if he lets Wade try to figure this out. He shoves at Wade and the merc falls onto his back, arms flailing out to try and keep his balance. Peter straddles Wade’s hips, keeping him in place, Wade’s large hands settling over his waist, keeping Peter in place. “I like this position a lot,” Wade mutters. 

Peter snickers. “I’m glad you think so.” He reaches down and starts stroking over Wade’s cock. He shudders. It  _ is  _ textured. Peter knows he shouldn’t, but he kind of doesn’t want to use any of the condoms Wade has. Wade moans underneath him, eyes fluttering closed. Feeling a little emboldened, Peter decides he may as well try to voice what he wants. “So I’ve heard your healing factor is pretty… impressive,” he says. 

Wade tenses up a bit. “...yeah.” 

“So…” Peter continues, still stroking Wade’s cock, thumb sometimes sliding over the tip, spreading the fluid there. “... this might be a little weird, but can… do we  _ have _ to use a condom?” Wade’s eyes go wide and he’s staring at Peter, mouth open. “I mean, I know it’s messier, but I’m a little curious about how  _ this,” _ he twists his hand over Wade’s erection, drawing a moan from him, “feels, all by itself.” 

“Are you… are you sure?” Wade asks. “I can’t catch or give anything, but I know that’s not for everyone.” 

Peter bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, I want it. Can I? Like this?” 

“Uh huh, yes, yes. Definitely, just need to..” He pats around the bed and comes up with the lube. “Need some of this stuff.” He pops the top open and pours it over his cock and Peter’s hand. Peter doesn’t let go, but he does spread the lube as best as he can. It’s a lot easier of a glide now. Wade pushes his hips up, groaning. “And it’s probably best we do it this way for your first time. Controlling the pace and all that.” 

Peter nods in agreement, although he really doesn’t understand. It doesn’t matter. “So can we start? Or…” 

“Let me,” Wade says, swiping his finger over the back of Peter’s hand then sitting up and reaching around to Peter’s backside. Peter moans when Wade’s fingers slip inside him again. “Probably could take more time–” Peter whines, “–but I’m going to be a little selfish because I just wanna lie back and watch.” 

Peter blushes, but doesn’t say anything. He’s horny enough that he just moves himself so he’s over Wade’s cock. Peter pauses for a moment, not believing that he’s really about to do this, then he starts to sink down. There’s a bit of a burn and Wade is saying something, but Peter can’t hear it over the blood rushing in his ears. He gets about half of Wade inside before he has to stop. His legs are shaking and he’s trying to remember how to breathe. 

“That’s it, Baby Boy,” Wade says, tracing his thumbs over Peter’s hips. “Take your time.” 

“Wade, you’re  _ huge _ ,” Peter pants, rotating his hips, balancing himself by putting his hands on Wade’s chest. 

“You can’t say things like that and expect me to be patient,” Wade purrs. Peter has a visceral image of Wade flipping them over and just  _ taking _ , leaving Peter breathless. It’s a great image and Peter sinks just a little more down because of it. “Or make noises like that,” Wade adds breathily. 

“Fuck, Wade. I can’t think,” Peter gasps, rotating and gyrating his hips, slowly but steadily taking more of Wade until his backside is flush with Wade’s thighs. Peter makes a high pitched noise and leans back, using Wade’s legs for leverage. 

“Holy fuck,” Wade pants. “If I’m dead, I better stay dead, holy  _ fuck. _ You’re taking it all.”

Peter moans, head thrown back and grinding down on Wade’s cock. It’s just the right angle, pushing against his prostate and perfectly textured. Then Wade wraps a hand around Peter’s erection. Peter makes another high pitched noise. “Wade! I’m– oh, God!” Peter screams, coming again, shaking apart. He’s never orgasmed so close together before. 

Peter loses track of what happens next because when he comes back to himself, he’s still in Wade’s lap, impaled on his cock, Wade wrapped around him. Wade is muttering something, but Peter can’t hear it. He feels stupid. “Don’t stop, Wade,” he gasps out. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Baby Boy, you’re… you should take a break.” 

“No, Wade,” Peter says, drawing his arms up so his palms are pressed into Wade’s chest. “You have to continue… please don’t stop… take me, please.”

“Fuck,” Wade growls, flipping them over so Peter is on his back again. “You’re gonna be feeling this for a while.”

“Please, Wade,” Peter begs desperately. “Please make me feel it. I wanna feel it tomorrow and the day after that and the day–ah!” His begging is cut off by Wade moving his hips. Shit, this is better than when he was on top. Wade moves fast and hard, barely giving Peter a chance to breathe.

And it’s perfect. 

* * *

Peter wakes up sometime the next day, mouth dry, every muscle sore, and Wade snoring noisily next to him. They’re both on top of the blankets and Peter is shivering a bit. He’s also covered in all sorts of fun stuff and his head is pounding. He sits up carefully, cradling his head in his hands. His muscles protest the movement, specifically his hips and backside. “Holy fuck,” Peter whispers, not exactly sure what he’s talking about. 

He looks over his shoulder. Wade is on his back, completely naked, mouth open and snoring. He can’t believe he wore out Wade Wilson. And last night was totally enough to get Wade out of his system. Totally. No doubt. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, forcing himself to stand up slowly and search for his clothes. He’s limping a bit. There’s a part of Peter’s mind that remembers when Wade figured out about his flexibility and that was a lot of fun, but his muscles are not happy about being so strained. 

Maybe tonight he’ll skip patrol. Sure, he’ll still be sore tomorrow, but it will be more manageable. He collects all of his clothes and sneaks out before Wade can wake up. Last night was only one night. Wade Winston Wilson is now firmly out of his system.

He keeps on repeating that in his mind, like he believes it. 

* * *

Wade wakes up suddenly, jerking awake. He’s not sure why he woke up that way; he can’t remember hearing a noise, or having a dream. Maybe it was how peaceful he was. The boxes are suspiciously silent and all Wade can hear is his own breathing. 

He’s completely naked and lying on top the blankets on his bed. His stomach is sticky and his muscles are a little sore, but not really? His healing factor has dealt with any soreness, but there’s a memory of an ache that should be there. Wade can’t remember the last time he had a night like that. Maybe not since Vanessa, and he steers his thoughts from her as soon as he can. No need to ruin a perfectly good night remembering something not so fun. 

But… he blinks, looking around his room. Where’s… the guy? Wade cannot remember the guy giving him a name last night, or himself even asking for one. Honestly, it seemed too good to be true, so Wade didn’t ask many questions beyond making sure that he wanted to be here. 

Wade peels himself off his bed and heads to the shower. He wishes he didn’t have to wash last night off him, but even he has a minimum standard of hygiene. Although smelling like sex would definitely intimidate some people. 

And maybe he’s putting off looking around his place for any sign of the guy that came home with him: his groupie, he called him last night. Wade doubts he’ll find anything, but he thought there might have been some sort of connection there. Maybe the guy had to run and he left a quick note for Wade. It’s a useless hope, Wade knows, but his traitorous heart is calling the shots for some reason. Maybe it’s because the boxes are so quiet and someone has to be in charge. 

Wade steps out of the shower, ignoring his mirror, not wanting to see what he looks like. Not just the scars, which are always hard to look at, but what his face might look like. He’s not sure what he’s feeling inside, and he’s sure that it’s showing on his face. Wade would like to remain ignorant of his feelings, thank you. 

He slips into his comfortable clothes, sweats and a hoodie, foregoing a mask by putting his hood up. It feels nice to be unmasked, so Wade is going to stay that way for a while. Then he wanders around his apartment, trying not to make it look like he’s searching for something. 

_ {Don’t lie to yourself, Wade. You’re hoping to still find him. You were just a fuck to him.} _ Ah, Yellow is awake. 

** _[You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing,]_ ** White chimes in.  ** _[Like maybe last night wasn’t the best fuck of your life.]_ **

_ {Even with how much Wade tried to make it not happen–} _

** _[We still rocked it!]_ **

Wade sighs and makes his way to the kitchen when something catches his attention on the floor in the hall. It’s a crushed pair of glasses. Wade sucks in a breath. The guy didn’t even leave information so Wade could replace them. 

_ {Yeah, he just wanted to have sex. Don’t get upset, Wade. You should be grateful.} _

** _[Yeah! How many times does something like that happen?!]_ **

“Not often,” Wade admits, understating it. Not many are willing to sleep with him. If not because of his looks, because of his reputation. 

** _[We should tell everyone!!]_ **

Yellow scoffs.  _ {No one is going to believe you.} _

Wade huffs. “So?” He goes to a closet and pulls out a broom. He doesn’t have a dustpan, but he needs to sweep everything out of the way. This is mostly a crashing place. Some of his extra ammunition is here, but it’s for chilling between assignments. “Maybe that’s more of a reason to tell anyone who will listen.” 

** _[We should tell the Iron Dildo! He’s always making fun of us and insulting our sexual prowess–]_ **

_ {Stop talking like you’re doing any work,}  _ Yellow interrupts.  _ {And Stark definitely wouldn’t believe you.}  _

“Yeah,” Wade agrees. “Stark believes  _ nothing  _ that I say. If I told him the sky was blue, he’d still go outside to check.”

_ {Someone naive then–} _

** _[CAPTAIN AMERICA!]_ ** White screeches. Wade winces at the volume.  ** _[He’s always giving us the benefit of the doubt–]_ **

_ [A mistake, really,}  _ Yellow deadpans.

** _[–and then he can tell his no-fun husband! Everyone believes Captain America!]_ **

Wade laughs, nodding. “Captain America it is then.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or drop me a kudos to let me know that you liked this! 
> 
> My bibliography (although not really because it isn't properly formatted lol) for Peter's rant:  
Sexual Orientations, Rights, and the Body: Immutability, Essentialism, and Nativism – Edward Stein  
Sexual Fluidity and Related Attitudes and Beliefs Among Young Adults with a Same-Gender Orientation Sabra L. Katz-Wise • Janet S. Hyde
> 
> Follow me on [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/_Thursday_26) for more real time updates and to figure out what the hell i'm even doing! or to *gently* remind me I have stuff to work on! Or even to talk about any of the fic!


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